TAKE 2 ASPIRIN, STAY IN DOGHOUSE

Dale Dauten, King Features SyndicateCHICAGO TRIBUNE

You're out jogging with your golden retriever. (Just use your imagination, OK?) Anyway, you're out jogging with your golden retriever when, unexpectedly, the pooch jerks the leash and you both go tumbling. The retriever injures his leg and you strain your shoulder.

Now, here's the question: As the two of you seek medical attention, which of you will be treated like a dog?

That's the premise of a training tape I recently watched. You may recall that a few months back I took a look at the customer service in doctors' offices. I concluded by saying, "Health care is a giant industry that continuously produces new and better treatments for disease. Maybe someday they'll get around to new and better treatment of customers."

Well, I learned that there are people devoted to just that, including the past president of the American Marketing Association, Steve Brown, co-author of a book titled "Patient Satisfaction Pays" (Aspen Publishers, 1993).

He introduced me to one of his co-authors, Sheryl Bronkesh, who heads The HSM Group, a Scottsdale, Ariz., medical marketing consulting firm. Which brings us to the video . . . .

A consultant at HSM, Leslie Scott, had just had a beloved pet die and brought to the office a touching, handwritten note of condolence from her veterinarian. She couldn't help but contrast that expression of sympathy with the reaction of the medical staff when her grandmother died. What had she gotten from her grandmother's doctors? Bills. Just bills. Which inspired her to write the story for the video (eventually produced by CRM Films).

In it, the man's wife takes on the veterinary treatment for the retriever, while the man seeks his own medical care. You could write the script yourself. The wife is urged to bring the dog right in. Upon arriving, the pet is treated with gentleness, verbal and physical. The vet bandages the leg and provides medication. An assistant offers the dog a snack. And so on.

Meanwhile, the injured man endures the waiting-room wait, the examination-room wait, journeying to a separate building for X-rays, yet another wait back at the doctor's office, and finally, a trip to a pharmacy that includes an insurance hassle. He arrives home exhausted, hours after his wife and dog have returned.

It needn't be that way, of course. Despite insurance company bureaucracy and government regulations, there are doctors' offices where a human being can be treated as well as a house pet.

For instance, Steve and Sheryl spoke of a gynecologist who has a reception area that resembles a living room, with a table of beverages and cookies, and a collection of cookbooks along with index cards for patients who find a recipe they want to try.

But the wait is rarely long enough for recipe hunting. When it is, a staff member calls patients and alerts them, rescheduling if need be. And so on. These are not technological breakthroughs, just old-fashioned thoughtfulness, the kind you might find in a hair salon or even a brake shop.

You might suppose that there is no financial incentive for the gynecologist to be customer-oriented-she is paid piece-rate by insurance companies. However, because she is so popular, she is able to reject arrangements with the chintziest or most contrary insurance companies. And some of her patients forgo their insurance benefits and pay their own bills, just to have her level of care.

There are two lessons here for all of us. One is that the marketplace eventually finds a way to reward superior service. Second, there are no "secrets" to first-rate customer service. We all are customers, so all of us get to see examples of the best in action. Every day, you and I and the doctor can all take lessons from the vet, the hair stylist and the brake shop. The planet is a customer-service classroom; all we have to do is take notes.